Do it,I silently command.Do it. I know you want to. Do it. And then you’ll discover I’m not some woman you can claim.
And five seconds later, he does.
In goes a tiny sprinkle of powder. The tiny particles float down, dissolving quickly in the pale gold liquid. He gives the glass a quick swirl, mixing it further. Then, with a furtive glance around the table, he slowly pushes it back to where he found it.
Crap. He really did it.
In the middle of a banquet hall filled with hundreds of people.
Right beside me, while I’m supposedly on my phone.
Anger flares hot. Thisasshole.
The urge to punch him has me fisting my hand beneath the table. I could. I know a hundred ways to hurt him, kill him, just by the strike of my hand.
But I won’t. I’ll settle for taking his misogynistic predator ass down instead.
Now that I have confirmation that something’s in my glass, I turn my attention back to the string of texts from Ace.
Most Obnoxious Man on the Planet. Maybe I’ll use that for Indy when he’s annoying me.
You sure you’re okay?
Do you need me to talk to him? I know you can, but if you don’t want to…
Crap. I don’t want big, intimidating Ace coming over and messing up my plan. I need Camden to think I’m alone. Vulnerable. At least for now. But soon, I will need Ace and his team for backup, so I need to loop him in.
My fingers fly across the screen as I type.
Sorry. I’m fine. Bit of a situation here, but it’s okay. I’ll text you soon to fill you in. Might need some backup, but not yet.
His reply comes in immediately.
Backup? Are you in trouble?
I quickly shoot off another message.
Not in trouble. But when I call, I need you to come. Can you?
Three dots blink momentarily.
Of course. Are you sure you’re okay?
Desperate to get back to Camden, I hurriedly reply.
Yes. MOMP is going down.
Then I set my phone face down and turn to Camden. Widening my eyes, I say, “Sorry about that. You were saying?”
Camden looks annoyed for a second, but he quickly hides it. “No problem. I’m sure it was important. Anyway.” He angles his chin at my wine glass. “Why don’t you have a drink?” Raising his own mostly-empty glass, he tilts it at mine. “A toast to a lovely dinner with an even lovelier woman.”
Oh, ugh.
But now I have a reason for playing along.
So I do.
I smile. I flirt—well, as best I can, considering that’s never been my forte. I flip my hair. I even let Camden hold my hand, even though it makes my skin crawl.
